Chapter 14

Myla

I turned on shaky legs and softly closed the door behind me, flipping the lock.

Sex with Cian was something I’d fantasized about a million times, but I’d always imagined that it would happen organically on some night when we’d been drinking and affectionate and let things get out of hand. I’d never envisioned that I would be standing in nothing but a towel discussing babies and marriage before he’d even touched me.

It was almost impossible to turn back around.

“Myla?”

I turned to take him in. His head was tipped to the side in question, and his sandy brown hair hung around his face in wet waves. The sweatshirt he was wearing was dry in spots the cut had covered, but the rest of it was soaked, and so were his jeans. The wet fabric clung to every muscle and bulge. His hands hung at his sides, not quite relaxed. His blue eyes were intent as my gaze moved back up his body.

He was Cian. My person. My love.

Letting out a shallow breath, I let the towel fall to the floor.

“Christ,” Cian muttered thickly, his gaze eating me up. Reaching behind his neck, he ripped off his sweatshirt and T-shirt at the same time.

I stared. His chest was dusted with hair, a large tattoo of his family’s crest between his pectorals. His stomach was taught and ridged, and Kelly was inked in thick, bold letters just above the waistband of his boxers. I’d seen it all before, but it hit differently this time.

My nipples peaked as Cian reached for his belt buckle.

I moved toward him, stepping over the towel, my eyes glued to his hands. The muscles in his forearms flexed and bunched as he ripped the belt open and unbuttoned his jeans.

I let out a sound of protest when he abandoned what he was doing, but it was lost when his hands found my face and his lips met mine. I groaned deep in my throat.

Cian and I had kissed plenty of times. We’d party and end up falling into bed together, kissing and groping each other over our clothes, but we’d never done more than that. It was always drunken fumbling that left me frustrated and giddy at the same time.

The kiss was so different from anything we’d had before. We were clear-headed. Desperate for connection after the fight we’d had.

And we knew exactly where it was leading.

He tasted like cinnamon gum, and he smelled like rain.

We moved around the room with no purpose, bumping into things as we fought for more skin. His hand gripped my ass, the tips of his fingers so close to my center that I shuddered. My palms cupped the back of his head as I tangled my fingers in his hair. Still, we kissed.

I tore at the waistband of his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. My back hit the wall as he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his hips.

“I need you,” I gasped against his mouth. “Please, baby.”

He didn’t answer. He was too busy lifting me until he could reach my nipple with his mouth. He sucked it inside, his teeth barely scraping the skin, and my back arched so hard that the back of my head slammed into the wall. I barely noticed.

Cian’s head shot up. “Shit.”

“I’m okay,” I muttered, trying to guide his mouth back to my nipple. “I’m fine.”

He paused, his eyes roaming from my face to my breasts.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he breathed, giving his head a little shake.

I let out a squeal as he spun us away from the wall, my hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

He dropped me onto the bed just as someone knocked on my door.

“Uh, Myla?” Frankie called out, laughter in her voice.

“Go the fuck away,” Cian ordered, reaching for the waistband of his jeans.

“Just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she said, full-on laughing.

“Get the fuck away from the door.”

“Finally,” she muttered as she left.

“Sorry,” I said distractedly as I stared.

I’d seen Cian in his underwear before. Not often, but it had happened once in a while on accident. But he’d always slept fully dressed if I was in bed with him. We’d both known that if any clothes came off while we were fooling around, there would be no turning back.

My mouth watered as he bent over to take off his boot and socks, giving me a glimpse of the massive club tattoo on his back. He kicked off the jeans and straightened.

Cian was ripped. I’d known it, but seeing it up close was an entirely different experience.

He hadn’t always been muscular. When Cian had first come to the club, he’d been kind of scrawny. It hadn’t mattered. Back then, my teenage heart had fluttered at just the sight of his perfect smile.

I’d been lucky enough to get a front-row seat over the years as his body changed, though, his shoulders growing broader and his arms and thighs and ass thickening bit by bit until he’d transformed into the man above me. His body was perfect in every way. So perfect, in fact, that for a second I had an irrational fear that I was going to be disappointed the minute he took his boxers off.

“What’s that face?” he asked, pausing.

“What face?” I quickly changed my expression.

“You changin’ your mind?” he ground out, his fingers still on the waistband of his boxers.

“No,” I replied quickly. He was too far away. I shifted on the bed, bending my knee.

Cian swallowed hard as he stared.

It lasted so long that I began to get a little nervous. I was thin. It wasn’t something I worked at, it was just the genetics I was born with. I had the same body as my mom before she’d started having kids. Slim hips, a waist that dipped in barely on the sides, and small breasts. I could wear anything I wanted, which was a plus when I went shopping…but I wasn’t exactly a bombshell. There weren’t a ton of curves. I knew some guys were into a little more, well, more .

“Cian,” I murmured, my feet flexing as I slid my thighs a little closer together.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, shoving his boxers down his thighs.

My mouth dropped open a little as I took in the sight. There was nothing disappointing about Cian’s body.

I widened my legs as he climbed onto the bed, and he settled in between them like he’d been there a thousand times before, our bodies fitting like two pieces of a whole.

“After this, there’s no goin’ back,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me. “You know that, right?”

“No going back,” I agreed against his mouth, dragging my nails down his sides.

Leaning up, his eyes met mine as he smiled. A second later, his mouth was on my collarbone as his hands roamed over my breasts and ribs. As his kisses moved lower, so did his hands, and his fingers delicately traced patterns over my belly and hips until I was panting.

By the time his fingers slid between my legs, I was so sensitive that every muscle in my body pulled tight in an instant.

“Shh,” Cian soothed in my ear, biting the lobe delicately as his fingers played.

“I’m on birth control,” I whispered, tipping my head back as I rolled my hips against his hand. “I’ve been tested.”

“So have I,” he replied, thrusting two fingers inside me. “Haven’t been with anyone else in over a year.”

I let out a strangled groan, my nails digging into his back.

“You tellin’ me I can skip the condom?” Cian asked, pulling his face away from my neck to look me in the eyes. His fingers never stopped moving, every thrust making my body jolt with pleasure. “You gotta be clear on this, baby. I can grab one outta my wallet.”

“Isn’t this forever?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I lifted a hand to his cheek.

He turned his head to kiss my palm. “No goin’ back, remember?” His fingers thrust again, the ball of his thumb pressing firmly against my clit.

“No condom,” I gasped.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed. He pulled his fingers out and stuck them quickly into his mouth before wiping them across his chest as he got to his knees.

“No,” I complained, reaching for him.

“I need to watch,” he replied roughly, pulling me toward him.

I couldn’t catch my breath as he jerked my legs over his, spreading my thighs wide with his hands.

His cock was so close I could feel it brushing against me when he lifted his head and our eyes met.

“Ready?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he replied.

I didn’t have time to tell him I loved him because he thrust inside, and my orgasm hit me so hard that my entire body shook with it. I let out a noise I hadn’t even realized I could make.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Fuck, good girl. Jesus, Myla.”

I’d never felt anything like it. I’d had plenty of orgasms, both self-procured and with someone else, but I’d never had an orgasm like that . Tears rolled down the sides of my face as I came back down. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a mixture of awe and something else that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Come here,” I whispered hoarsely, reaching for him.

I needed him closer. I needed his arms around me. The shelter of his body. It felt like my body was going to shatter into a thousand different pieces, and I’d never be able to find them again. Every part of me was trembling with aftershocks.

“Okay?” he whispered, falling forward until his forearms bracketed my head and the comfort of his big body pressed me to the bed.

“Yeah,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his back. “Better.”

“Good.”

He continued to thrust as the aftershocks from my orgasm made me jerk and gasp, but it wasn’t long before he gripped the inside of my thigh and pressed it wide as he came with a grunt. As he slowed to a gentle glide, his hand slid inward and his thumb carefully brushed over my clit and then down, pressing against the delicate skin that stretched around his cock.

I let out a shuddering breath as I clenched around him.

“Too sensitive?” he asked quietly, his lips moving against my jaw.

“A little.” I shuddered again as his thumb made another pass.

He pulled his hand away and licked it absentmindedly before wiping the side of it against his chest.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, letting out a small moan of complaint as he pulled out.

“Do what?” he asked, lying down on his side next to me.

Boneless, I let him arrange me next to him, our chests pressed together and one of my knees pressed between his. I wanted to be closer, as close as we could get.

“You know,” I said tiredly, licking my finger and wiping it against my chest the way he’d done it.

“What?” He stared at me in confusion.

“You lick your fingers and then wipe them on your chest. You did it twice.”

It took him a second before his expression cleared. “Oh.” He let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Want you on me.”

I just looked at him.

“Wanna taste it,” he said, leaning closer. “And I wanna smell it later.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “ That’s what you’re doing?”

“Why is that surprisin’?”

“You want to smell like sex?” I asked in disbelief.

“I wanna smell like your pussy,” he corrected.

I let out a surprised giggle.

“Smells good,” he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re nuts.”

“It does,” he said, his hand shoving between us to cup me. He made a sound of satisfaction as he pulled his hand back out. “Look at that. So fuckin’ wet.”

“That’s yours,” I argued, still giggling as he ran his hand over his chest and then mine. “Cian!”

“That’s you,” he said, gripping me tight as he rolled us over. “You were fuckin’ drippin’ before I even got inside you.”

“I was not,” I protested. I knew my face was red from the heat in my cheeks.

“You were. Makeup sex must be your thing.”

“Sex with you is my thing,” I corrected quietly.

“Happy to hear that,” he murmured, letting even more of his weight rest on me until I was fully pinned and our noses were touching.

I stared. His lashes were so long.

“Why the tears, baby?” he asked softly, the tips of his fingers tracing the dried tear tracks on my temples.

“I have no idea,” I whispered back, my throat tightening. “It was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “Knew it would be.”

“Me too.”

“Happy, though?”

“Oh, yeah,” I breathed.

I didn’t think I’d ever been happier in my life. The man I’d loved for years was laying on top of me, naked, after the best sex I’d ever had—I never wanted to leave that bed again.

Cian rolled to his back, taking me with him, and flipped the blankets over us. It reminded me of when we’d shared the sleeping bag, and I smiled against his chest as his fingers traced back and forth across my bare back.

It must have reminded him of the same thing.

“I’m sorry I left your ass swingin’ with your pop,” he said quietly, kissing the top of my head. “Fucked up.”

“You were trying to defend yourself,” I conceded, spreading my hand over the tattoo on his chest. “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“I was fuckin’ pissed,” he argued with a huff. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“I was taking care of it,” I murmured.

His hand stilled on my back. “I didn’t handle it well.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Didn’t blame you.”

“Sure seemed like it,” I said gently. “But here’s the thing: I should be able to walk around stark naked and drunk off my ass and still be safe to say no.”

“You’ve got no argument from me.”

“Good.”

“ Should be able to, baby,” Cian said, his arm tightening around me. “Not are .”

“I know,” I replied, lifting my head to look at him. “I just thought—I don’t know. I was on club grounds for Christ’s sake. I let my guard down.”

“I know, My.”

“It won’t happen again.”

Cian nodded. “No one touches you. Think I made that clear.”

“I did, too,” I replied, raising my eyebrows. “He’ll be lucky if he fathers children.”

He scoffed and kissed my forehead before dropping his head back to the pillow.

I fell asleep with Cian’s hand in my hair and his heartbeat in my ear. At some point he must’ve gotten up and turned out the light, but I never noticed. When I woke up the next morning, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.

“I’m sticky,” I murmured, rolling toward him. “Where are you going?”

“Mornin’, baby,” he replied, turning. “It’s early.”

“Why are you leaving?”

Cian smiled, brushing my hair away from my face. “Need to get to work.”

“No,” I groaned, glancing at the clock.

“You need to get to work, too,” he reminded me.

“Let’s call in,” I said, wrapping my hand around his wrist. “I feel a cold coming on. I think it’s contagious.”

“Don’t work, don’t get paid,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me. “You wanna get some dinner tonight?”

“Like a date?” I asked in surprise, pulling away.

Cian laughed. “Sure, like a date.”

“We’ve never been on a date,” I pointed out.

“I’ve taken you out a bunch of times.”

“Those weren’t dates.”

“Then what the hell were they?”

“I don’t know. Just dinner.”

“You put makeup on,” he mused. “Wore those jeans that you know make me want to bite your ass—”

I let out a choked noise of amusement.

“I picked you up and I paid.”

“So?”

“You wear those jeans out with Lou and Frankie?”

“No,” I conceded. “But those still weren’t dates.”

“They were.”

“Dates end with a kiss,” I pointed out smugly. “Or banging.”

Cian let out a throaty laugh that made me grin proudly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bang you tonight,” he joked, kissing me again.

“Or you could do it now,” I murmured, pulling the blankets down to my waist.

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking down between us.

With a quick flick of his hand, the blankets were thrown further down my body. Twisting, he leaned down and sucked my nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin until my back arched. My hands fisted in his hair as his fingers found my center and shoved inside with precision, the ball of his hand pressing tightly against my clit.

“I gotta go,” he said, nuzzling my chest as his hand worked. “You gotta get there, baby.”

“My nipples,” I replied desperately, letting go of him with one hand. I reached down and pinched my nipple hard as I rode his hand, my thighs burning.

“That’s it,” he said, his tongue lashing at the nipple I had pinched between my fingers.

The world spun as I focused on those two points of contact.

“Cian,” I breathed as every muscle in my body tightened.

Just like that, his hands and mouth were gone.

“No,” I gasped as he flipped me to my belly and yanked me to the edge of the bed.

Then I was flying as he slammed inside me, his hand wrapping around my jaw as he pressed his fingers between my lips.

“Suck, Myla,” he whispered in my ear.

I sucked and strained against him as he pounded inside of me, every molecule in my body sensitized and screaming.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding under me to pinch my nipple. “You love that, don’t you, baby? Squeeze me with that greedy pussy. Fuck.”

I groaned around his fingers and ground back against him as the orgasm hit, wave after wave crashing over me.

When it was finally over, I dropped tiredly to the bed, my body throbbing.

“Now, I really gotta go,” he groaned, kissing my back as he gently pulled away.

“Go,” I ordered, the word muffled by the way my face pressed into the mattress. I flicked my fingers, the only part of my body I was willing to move.

“Get up and get dressed, love,” he said, gently swatting my ass. “You’ll be late if you fall back asleep.”

“Unlike you, I’m going to have to shower,” I grumbled, inching further onto the bed.

“Next time I’ll take one with you,” he said as he tossed the blankets back over me.

He made it all the way to the door before turning to look at me.

“You know I love you?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

He’d only been gone for a few minutes when my bedroom door swung open again and my best friends poked their heads inside.

“It smells like sex in here!” Frankie gasped.

“Look at her,” Lou said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Shameless hussy doesn’t even have clothes on.”

“Go away,” I moaned, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

“You better get up for work,” Lou ordered. “It’s getting late.”

“Out!”

She left, but Frankie stayed.

“Hey Myla,” she said seriously, leaning against the doorframe.

“What?”

“You know I love you?” she asked, lowering her voice.

“Fuck off,” I said, snorting as she cackled and scurried away.

I threw the blankets off with a sigh and arched out of bed, swaying on rubbery legs as I got ready for work.